


Firefly

by NowWeOwnTheNight



Category: Dead Poets Society (1989)
Genre: Banter, F/M, Fireflies, M/M, Multi, Three-way Relationship, Unrequited Love, bam - Freeform, bi!knox woot, but todd is legitimately colourblind, carpe that fucking diem, eh, everyone is done with his shit, everyone is p sassy, fix-it-but-not-really-bc-we're-just-pretending-it-never-happened fic, keating is still there wooo, knox is the puppy of the group, knox loves limes, like excessive and given past fic this is just, meeks is a lil bitch, neil is fuckign blind, neil is totally a fae, nuwanda is a meddling little shit, post-neil's suicide, t for a lot of swearing, these tags have gotten out of hand I'm sorry, why do i even tag this shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 06:12:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5529020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NowWeOwnTheNight/pseuds/NowWeOwnTheNight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Look, Todd. Fireflies."<br/>"All I see is a fucktonne of white blobs, Perry."<br/>"And you call yourself a fucking poet."</p><p>Or- the one where Todd is colourblind and everyone in The Society is really gay, but it takes everyone a while to figure it out. Todd's lack of colour perception, that is. The gayness is something they all readily acknowledge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Firefly

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place after the play, let’s just pretend Neil’s dad never showed up to the play and everything was fine, the boys just went on an ‘excursion’ with Mr. Keating. All is well and Todd is crawling the fuck outta his shell [cave, and he’s doing just fine, been listening to Mr. Brightside way too much on christmas].  
> Also ace!meeks is my favorite thing ever, even though he’s not given the credit I wanted in this. Because Nuwanda is gay as hell, and Pitts and Meeks nerding out and dancing around is literally the cutest.
> 
> sORRY I promised a story for the BOB fic but i got distracted watching DPS and this basically wrote itself my bad

*

 

It's Meeks who figures it out first: he and Todd have chemistry together, and the Anderson kid had been glaring at the different coloured tabs for the better half of the lesson.

"Todd? What's wrong?"

Todd sighs.

Picks up his pencil.

Glances at Meeks to see if his halfhearted cold shoulder worked on the ginger.

Throws down his pencil when Meeks' eyes meet his.

"Just pick the fucking blue one, Meeks."

"No, I'm- my job was to take notes, you're on the right. You're doing the-"

"Just tell me which one it is. Okay?" Todd whispers harshly, avoiding the teacher's stern glare.

"The..." Meeks is smart; this, Todd knows. But can he keep his fucking mouth shut? "Okay, the left one."

"Good."

"...Todd-"

"Not a fucking _word_ , Meeks."

"Kay."

 

It starts on a Thursday afternoon.

It hardly takes 24 hours, but in the end, Todd gets Neil and no one could be happier.

If only he'd known that from the start.

 

*

 

 _Not a fucking word my ass_ , is all Todd repeats to himself as he plays pick-up-sticks with his mentally-aged toddlers for friends- but instead of sticks, there are words of rumor and hurt.

"Guys, guess what!! Todd is-"

Meeks never finishes his sentence- Todd's hefty textbook connects solidly with the back of the boy's head, knocking his glasses clean off and his words right out of his mouth.

"Shut your fucking mouth, Meeks." Growls Todd.

"Woah, you fuckin' _geddim_ , Toddy!!" Encourages Nuwanda, cheering from within the dorm room containing the other poets.

 

*

 

Naturally, after helping Todd chase Meeks out of the building for impugning the young boy's honor, Nuwanda wants to know _why_.

"So wait, why are you so mad attim again?"

"I... He found out a secret about me. One I prefer to keep relatively private-"

"Oh, that you're gay and you want to fuck Neil?"

"What?! No!"

"Oh dude, come on, I've fucked Meeks and Pitts... At he same time, too! We don't fucking judge-"

"I'm not fucking _gay_ , Nuwanda, I'm-!"

"Not with _that_ fucking attitude you're not!"

"And I _don't_ want to fuck Neil!"

"Not with _that_ fucking attitude you won't!"

"I'm fucking _colourblind_!"

"..."

"..."

"..."

"Hold up, you said you're in a relationship with Meeks _and_ Pitts. At the same time."

"Yup."

"Wuh- you- how-"

"Perks of being a Poetry God."

"You... You sick bastard!"

"... _No_ , Todd- they're also together."

"What the fuck is- how can you be fucking Pitts and Meeks while those two are _also_ in a _completely_ _separate_ relationship?!"

Nuwanda deadpans so hard he's pretty sure the dead themselves couldn't match his done-ness.

"And this is why you and Neil aren't having hot dork sex for all our enjoyment, as a collective group of friends."

"What?"

"Nothin."

 

*

 

"Where's Knoxious?" Meeks asks.

"Out trying to woo Charlie.” Pitts responds with a note of disdain, “Or was it Charles? Chris... Carl... Fuckin, I can't remember. Some bloke or bird. Who knows with that kid."

“I think it was a chick. Last I heard…” Todd puts in.

"Hmm."

Silence, in which everyone judges the way Neil gazes at Todd and Todd blissfully albeit a little anxiously downs his mash potato.

"I still can't believe you got away with the play!" Bursts Pitts, unable to deal with the tense focus on the two boys sitting opposite one another at dinner.

"Can we _not_ talk about this?" Neil whines, all intents and purposes unswerving from Todd.

"What else is there to talk about?” Meeks chuckles, “Todd's c-"

Todd punches at Meeks' arm…

Keyword being _At_.

He misses when Meeks reaches for more potatoes, and ends up socking him right in the dick.

While Meeks makes faces like a constipated elephant and slams his face in his roast beef, Todd thanks every god alive for his easily distracted friends.

And also for the male anatomy, but he does that nearly every time Neil decides to piss off for the night.

 

*

 

Knox is next and is, true to his docile nature, by far the easiest of the Poets to explain his situation to. It's also the first time he gets to hear his own situation out loud, out of the confines of his head.

He's as mental as Knox tells him. 

Todd was on the way back from dinner when Knox popped in through an emergency door, demanding he assisted in his kitchen raid.

And here they are: piling uncooked spaghetti and tinned tomato relish into a pot. He's got no idea how Knox plans on cooking it; he'll let the love struck boy realise his own mistakes- or untapped potential -and sneak back to his own dorm.

"Todd, grab the oranges will you?!"

"Sure thing!"

Todd hands him the first two orange-like things he can see as they race for the exit.

"Todd, these are fucking limes."

"They're big limes."

"They're fucking _green_."

"I..." Todd ponders his situation. It'd be simple to 'idiot' is way out of this, but a distant explosion of radio-creaking swing music tells him what to do, what to say in the syncopated undertones of brass and bass. "I couldn't tell you if it hit me with a bus."

"Oh wow, Pitts must've got the radio working finally!"

"I tell you I'm colorblind and you praise Pitts' electrical engineering skills?"

"Oh wait fuck shit you were serious, _sorry_ , I didn't-" Knox drops his books, the food, his blazer, the dirty socks he'd planned to sneak in to the end of Nuwanda's saxophone, and the _fucking limes_ Todd had precariously balanced atop it all. " _Crap_ , I kinda wanted those limes."

Todd helps him gather his stuff, huffing with awkward laughter.

"It's _fine_ , Knox. Limes have skins, you know. They aren’t that dirty."

"But I _like_ the peels."

"Limes, Knox, _limes_."

"Citrus is citrus." He breathes wisely, "And… Well, eyesight is eyesight. I guess. Have you told everyone else?"

Todd breathes a sigh in relief. Why can't Meeks be this chill?

"No."

"Why not?"

"I'm already different enough, I don't want this shit on top of it all. People already think I'm shit at talking- which I am. They pity me, obviously- ah ah, don't fucking say you guys don't because I _know_ _that_. But _imagine_ if I had _this_ on top of it all, I'd just be an entirely outcast kid who is-"

"Todd, you need to stop focusing on what other people think and start looking at the way you think of yourself." And oh, Todd can see how hard Knox is holding in the additional 'and Neil' at the end of his outburst. "Citrus is citrus, eyesight's eyesight." He pauses, nodding once with finality. "And you want to fuck Neil."

 _There_ we go.

"I fucking _hate_ you."

 

*

 

Todd’s sure Neil’s more _blind_ than himself. They wake up face to face, inches from kissing in their sleep, sharing a bed thanks to the chilling spring weather. He jumps up for a pad of paper and a pen, eager to write down the experience.

Todd is also taking shit into his own hands because Knox kinda got through to him, and everyone and their _god damned_ _dog_ is right. He shouldn't hold back. Seize the day, Carpe that fucking Diem, and all that motivational stuff.

 

*

 

"So... Meeks told m- I mean! I _hear_ you're colourblind."

"Good fucking grief."

"I think… you and Neil should just hurry up and fuck."

"What does that have to do with me being-"

"Nothing, it's just more important at the moment."

"I kinda wish you guys would make a bigger deal out of my fucking dis-"

" _Hey_! Everybody! _Todd_ _is colo_ -"

As Todd drags Pitts off his metaphorical soap box (actually the dining table) and shuts him up by shoving crusts down his throat, a student from across the hall shouts:

"Gay?! We know!"

 

Pitts confirmed three things for Todd in that lunch period:

  1. Meeks, Nuwanda, and the lanky boy beside him _are_ in fact in a three-way relationship.
  2. He, Todd Anderson, is wholly and entirely fucking in _love_ with Neil Perry and literally the _entire_ _school_ knows.
  3. His friends are a bunch of total fucking _assholes_.



 

*

 

Keating, in all his incredibly perceiving glory, has known about the whole Neil-And-Todd Dilemma. Todd should have known something like this would happened. Plus he may have dug his own grave writing such a blatant poem, only… at this point, he's desperate. Neil's thick as ever.

After performing the ridiculously cheesy, slightly sexual poem with undefined pronouns, everyone claps, hoots, and edges their gaze on the boy in the center of the room.

“Neil,” The teacher states in that serious yet mocking tone of his, “Take notes!”

Neil snorts.

“I know Todd’s better at poetry than me, damnit.”

Everyone in the class sighs, groans, rolls their eyes. Spaz nearly snaps his glasses in two. Todd beats his forehead against his desk. Nuwanda stands and smacks his fists on the desk, chanting “Blood! Blood! Blood!” until Keating has to snap at him.

“…What?” Neil questions, frowning around at his classmates and teacher and the boy at the front-right corner of the class who’s pointedly keeping his face on the wooden desktop.

“And, thanks to Neil’s utter _density_ , you’re all to write a sonnet on forbidden love and read it next class.”

 

*

 

Even fucking _Hopkins_ figures it out before Neil.

And he's Hopkins!

"Oi Todd, pass the _black_ pen will ya?"

"Sure thing."

Todd hands the dark haired boy one of the many blue pens laid out on the desk between them.

"Hoppo," Neil drawls, "they're all _blue_."

"I _know_."

"Then why did you- Todd, where are you-"

" _Fuck_ you Hopkins, absolutely _fuck you_!"

 

No one gives a _shit_ about Dick but Todd's pretty sure he'd figured it out too, one way or another.

 

*

 

"Come look at this." Is what Neil wakes him up with at quarter to midnight. Todd thinks _you know what, fuck it_ as he trots after the quietly giggling boy, who's whispering "Come see, come see."

 

"Fireflies, Todd."

"Where?"

The moisture in the air seems alive, passing in their wake, gathering about the taller boy’s head like a ghost of Puck’s thorny crown. Neil grabs Todd’s hand and drops onto his back, pulling Todd to the dewy lawns of the school, mist-veiled and smoking in the early hours. Laying side by side, he sees small specks of light floating closer than the faint stars.

" _Look_ , Todd. _Fireflies_."

 _You know what, fuck it_.

"All I see is a fucktonne of white blobs, Perry."

"And you call yourself a fucking poet." Neil smirks, looking away from the night sky littered with the lantern bugs and the distant burn of gases, grinning at Todd as though _his_ eyes hold the galaxies, the nebulae of the vast and beautiful universe. Either it’s just another blaring clue flying right over Neil’s head, or Neil is unaffected by the new fact. Maybe he's not as dense as he let on. One way or another, Todd doesn’t give a _shit_. With the way the twilight looks reflected on Neil’s skin, the shine in the other boy’s eyes and lips when his tongue darts out to wet them… Todd’s helpless.

"You know what, fuck it." He mumbles, rolling over, landing on top of Neil with a breathy giggle.

 

*

 

The next day, Nuwanda tells everyone that they fucked in the Indian cave and Todd doesn't really care about people knowing whether he sees the world in black or grey or a vibrant yellow: he just doesn't want Nuwanda's shit-speaking mug to give everyone a detailed account of his and Neil's intimate first time. How Nuwanda knows this in the first place is both mystifying and kinda gross.

Neil decides that everything about that single statement figures, and is happy to leave the others to their gossip. He really just wants more kisses from Todd.


End file.
